Thursday, July 27, 2017

I just called the offices of Idaho’s Senators Mike Crapo and Jim Risch for the second time this week and asked them to vote against “skinny repeal.” I said,

“Please vote against skinny repeal of the Affordable Care Act. If the Senate can’t come up with a bill to get 50 votes on its own, it’s certainly not going to happen in conference. That’s not regular order. And the bill isn’t a good one on its own, either. The CBO says it will jack up my premiums by 20% and take insurance away from millions. There are better ways to fix the Affordable Care Act’s problems — please vote against skinny repeal, and all the current repeal attempts.”

Although Crapo and Risch almost certainly vote for anything their bosses McConnell and Trump put forward, they still need to feel pressure from their constituents. Call your own senators now! If they’re GOP, ask them to vote against repeal, and if they’re Democrats, thank them for holding the line. The Capitol switchboard is (202) 224–3121.

Thursday, June 08, 2017

I have a new personal website - check out https://nathanempsall.com/ to learn about my resume, my strategic digital work with the Democratic National Committee and the Sierra Club among other progressive employers, my journey towards ordination, my studies at Yale, and my latest writing!

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

You may have heard about the Sanders/O’Malley/Vargas presidential town hall last week that was interrupted by #BlackLivesMatter protestors. I was there, and now that I’m back on an actual computer instead of mobile, I’d like to share my thoughts.

On the one hand, one could definitely criticize the protestors’ tactics, as many have done. You can say that interrupting is rude and that discourse should be more respectful, that O’Malley and Sanders are allies of the movement and it’s counterproductive to embarrass them, or that they should have made their point and then sat down so that the audience could hear a rare event they were excited for.

All good points — and all incorrect, for three reasons.

1) I am a straight, cis, well-educated white man, as are many of the others who have criticized these protestors. I have more privilege than almost anyone in the history of the planet. That doesn’t mean my life is easy or that I don’t face real challenges and experience true pain — but it does mean that the system is stacked in my favor. I’m not 21 times more likely to be shot dead by police or twice as likely to be denied a mortgage; there will be generational transfer of wealth; I’m on the healthy side of the pay gap. So here’s the thing — who the hell am I to tell the oppressed, the families of people literally dying in the streets at the hands of the state, how they can and can’t speak out?

Yes, their tactics could have been better, but to focus on that misses the point entirely. I don’t get to tell them how they can respond to their pain.

2) For voices on the outside, being loud is the only thing that works. People who lead movements with inside-voices rarely effect change. White politicians can demand that all activists, including the black and brown ones, speak to them quietly, but the few don’t get heard by the many if they don’t speak up over the din. That’s why we’ve seen only small progress over the past few decades, and if the oppressed don’t speak out, they’ll continue to suffer without the progress they need.

When we say “Don’t interrupt! Be civil!” We’re saying “Keep doing what you’ve always done,” which means keep getting the same results. No, sitting at a lunch counter and denying that small-business owner the revenue from a white customer, even though that’s illegal, is what gets noticed and starts to shift the culture.

3) Most importantly, the protest WORKED. People are still talking about this event days after the fact. Hillary Clinton put out a forceful statement on black lives matter, which she wouldn’t have otherwise had to do, and we learned things about O’Malley and Sanders that we wouldn’t have from a normal interview.

When asked about systemic racism and black, O’Malley’s reply included “white lives matter.” That told me more about him than answers to ten more questions from Vargas could have possibly done. The Sanders, when asked about an issue he doesn’t usually address, refused to deviate from a limited set of talking points about job creation and free tuition. He sounded like a Bush-era Republican screaming “TAX CUTS!” no matter what the question — never mind that without paying attention to systemic racism, new policies almost inevitably benefit the majority more.

Initially I thought O’Malley’s remarks were worse, but at least he did listen to the protestors while Sanders fumed at them. Then Sanders kept digging his hole deeper by cancelling all meetings for the rest of the day, while O’Malley kept his plans to go on a black radio show and sat through a dressing down, which is not easy to do, and later apologized. You can say he didn’t have a choice, but contrast it to Sanders who took his ball and went home, showing a thin skin, giant ego, and limited issue profile.

You can say the protestors failed in their tactics, but O’Malley and Sanders failed even more. Had the activists not stormed the proceedings, we would have heard Sanders continue to repeat the same talking points over and over no matter what he was asked, we would have continued to hear O’Malley drone on more about his record than his vision, and Clinton would have ignored the event. Oppressed voices were heard.

I don’t have a choice — no matter what I might otherwise think of the tactics, I have to support Tia Oso, Patrisse Cullors, and the voices of #BlackLivesMatter.

This is WONDERFUL news and I am so proud to be an Episcopalian! The Archbishop of Canterbury in London, who is the titular head of the full Anglican Communion, released this statement:

"At a time of such suffering around the world, he stated that this was a moment for the church to be looking outwards."

I completely agree! Let's look out beyond the pews - to everyone the church has hurt in the past - and do what we can to apologize, heal the wounds, and fight for justice.

Wait, what? That's not what he meant?

"Archbishop Justin Welby said that [the Episcopal Church's decision to recognize marriage equality] will cause distress for some and have ramifications for the Anglican Communion as a whole."

And what about the refusal to recognize the dignity of ALL God's children? The refusal to treat our brothers and sisters as equals? The bloody violence that leads to against LGBT people in Nigeria, Uganda, and yes, even here on a smaller scale in the United States? Does that all not cause distress for some with ramifications for all, as well?

When the ABC said this: "We continue to mourn with all those who are grieving loved ones and caring for the injured from the terrorist attacks in Sousse, Kuwait and Lyons, and from the racist attacks in Charleston." What about the 1,572 Americans who the FBI says were victims of sexual-orientation hate crimes in 2011? Or the fact that though transgendered people are just 1% of immigration detainees, they are 20% of that population's sexual assault victims? And what about the millions more who simply want - need - to be told they are human too? Should we not mourn, care for, and stand with them, too?

This is not the first time Justin Welby has said such things, and I'm starting to feel a little ashamed to have him as Archbishop of Canterbury. He proclaims the need for unity, yet takes sides in the process - and the side of injustice, at that. But I'm proud of my church. We welcome, include, and love ALL of God's children. God loves YOU!

Happy Father’s Day! Dads, I hope you’ve got a wonderful day
planned with the kids, or better yet, that you’ll be rewarded with a rare day alone
in your recliner with some of our Brew Crew beer.

It’s also a special day for those of us who are adult
children. There can be something very meaningful in sharing old memories with
Dad that he didn’t know we had – and it’s great to actually be able pick up the
check for once. I like Father’s Day.

But just like Mother’s Day, it can also be hard for some: for
those who don’t know their dads, or who might have complicated relationships
with them. For those who are having their first Father’s Day without their
father or grandfather. Or worst of all, for fathers who have lost their
children.

That kind of pain is actually the place where this day has
its roots. The very first Father’s Day was in 1908, four hours from here in
Fairmont, West Virginia. A terrible coal-mine explosion killed 360 miners and
left more than 1,000 children without fathers, so the local Methodist church
held a service in honor of fatherhood.

If there is anyone here who feels a twinge of sadness today,
you are not alone; this holiday is for you as much as it is for anyone. We all honor
your loss and its meaning. I am very sorry.

Unfortunately, there are quite a few people experiencing a
Father’s Day like that for the first time today in Charleston, SC.

Eliana and Malana Pinckney have lost their father, the Rev.
Clementa Pinckney.

Tywanza Sanders’ joyous reunion with
his father and mother following his college graduation was cut tragically
short, and they now mourn their baby.

And all over this country, black
fathers and mothers have to explain to their children today why they don’t feel
safe at church the way I feel safe here now, the way they already don’t feel
safe on the playground like Tamir Rice, or walking home from the convenience
store like Trayvon Martin.

I’m lucky. That is not the Father’s Day
phone call John Empsall and I will have this afternoon. That is my privilege –
everyone has troubles, grief, and challenges, but it cannot be denied that
white families like mine and black families like the Pinckneys and Sanders face
very different challenges, fears, and even realities in today’s America.

And
we as Episcopalians who take Baptismal vows to strive for justice and peace and
to persevere in resisting evil, we as Christians whose savior was a person of
color executed by the state, must respond.

As a country - and as a church - we need
to talk about the need for new gun laws and mental health options. But as we
discuss those topics, we cannot let them distract us from this one horrible
fact: Systemic racism is and has always been alive and well in the United
States, and to this day, it has devastating consequences for millions of our
brothers and sisters.

The Charleston shooting was a racist
hate crime and an act of terror. It brings to mind nothing so much as the 1963 Birmingham
church bombing, and comes in a nation where both the media and the state treat
white criminals, and white victims, very differently than black criminals and
black victims.

I think most of us here already know
the data – statistics like, black families are twice as likely to be
denied a mortgage, and young white men like me are 21 times less likely to be
shot by police than our black counterparts. So I won’t patronize anyone by
laying out that case, but I would like to read an extended passage Joshua DuBois
wrote this week. DuBois is a black man, a Pentecostal minister, and a former
adviser to President Obama. He writes,

"One of [the next]
steps [in combating the sickness of unacknowledged bias and white supremacy] has to be White
Americans having an honest conversation about White culture. Yes, White culture.

"If that sounds
shocking, think about this: how many times have we explicitly asked Black folks
to address the ‘problems’ of Black culture, from fatherlessness to violent
music to shootings in Chicago? African Americans engage in these conversations
regularly. Now it’s time for my White brothers and sisters [to] lead their own
conversations as well.

"We need dinner table conversations about how some White children grow up without a racist bone in their body, but others are predisposed to sing songs about [n-words] on a fraternity bus. How does that happen? What is the cause, and what is the solution? White Americans need to drive this dialogue."

This is not the sermon I was expecting
to give even just yesterday morning. But DuBois is right – today, every predominately
black church in the country is talking about Charleston and racism, every
single one, and so every predominantly white church must do the same.

That is especially true for us as
Episcopalians. Our denomination, though I love it dearly and it is my identity,
has a very flawed racial history – for example, we never actually opposed slavery, and didn’t apologize for that until the 1990s. That makes it all the
more imperative that we step up every single time this happens. We cannot claim
to be filling our vow to strive for justice if we do not speak of injustice.

Today’s Gospel is an appropriate one
for the occasion. All of us have storms in our individual lives – divorce,
breakups, the death of a loved one, bad jobs, lay-offs, uncertainty. Collectively,
we are also all going through the storm of racism. There is work for us to do –
as a church, as individuals – but it begins by acknowledging God’s presence
with us in the boat.

To that end, one of my favorite quotes
is from a Mississippi theologian and preacher, Tex Sample: “Trouble is the
infallible sign of God’s presence. Not because God loves trouble, but because
God loves us. So where there is trouble, God comes to be present.”

So the question facing us is, how do we
help others find God’s presence during their troubles? How can we be active Christian
allies in the ongoing struggles against racism and violence?

I hate to bring up questions and not
answers, so I will at least throw out three little ideas.

Second, make that solidarity visible.
Find out when DC Ferguson or other organizations are protesting – and if you’re
able, go. (In fact, there’s a silent march tonight at 6pm at the African
American Civil War Memorial, by the U Street Metro.) And, whether it’s
tonight’s march or a future event, if you’re a parent, happy Father’s Day, consider
taking your child. I’ve been to a lot of these protests, and I can say that these
are safe events – everything is out in public, justice is on everybody’s minds,
and at least in downtown DC, the police are used to it. So I’m always happy to
see small children there, holding mommy or daddy’s hand and learning. Please,
come.

Finally, the most important thing we as
mostly white Christians can do is to heed DuBois’ call - to have this
conversation, and to have it in public. At coffee hour, at our grill and
chills, at work, on Facebook. I know that a recent poll showed 57% of white
Americans think we already talk too much
about race – but only 18% of black Americans said that, and as the ones who
bear the brunt of racism and prejudice, they’re the experts here. If most black
Americans under fire say we don’t talk enough about race, I don’t GET to
disagree.

That conversation begins by listening
to those Black voices who have the lived experience. We must pay attention to
faith leaders like Moral Mondays founder Rev. William Barber and Ferguson
Pastor Traci Blackmon, and to activists like the founders of the Black Lives
Matter movement: Alicia Garza, Patrisse Cullors, and Opal Tometi. And without
tokenizing them or putting them on the spot, we should definitely listen to the
people in our own lives whose days are different than ours when they choose to
speak out.

Then, though it’s painful and it’s uncomfortable,
we need to ask ourselves how we – I need to ask myself how I – might be
advancing a culture of racism without even realizing it. I need to ask, what is
white culture, and is the culture at work a mostly white culture? Am I, are we,
open to those who are different, and what questions do I ask of which
colleagues? What about the culture at church? This is a denomination that is
80% white in a country that certainly isn’t.

I don’t have answers to these
questions, but asking them in and of itself is a powerful step we can all take.

More personally – and this is something
I failed at just last night – we need to call out friends and loved ones if and
when we hear them dehumanize the poor with language like “they’re lazy” or
reflexively respond to news stories by calling unarmed victims of police
violence “thugs.” Even if we can’t change our friends’ minds, it matters that
observers see those words rebutted by Christians like us, especially white
Christians who don’t have to speak out.

Pushing back against those sentiments
isn’t being political – it is asserting an active, Godly love for the victims
of racism by fighting just some of the prejudice they receive from people who
look like me - and like most of us.

Like in the Gospel, there is a storm in
our lives. We need to follow Christ and proclaim His presence, but that doesn’t
mean we can throw up our hands and say He’ll do the hard work for us. It’s up
to us to exercise our privilege, join Black Americans in their storm, and show
the haters that Jesus is sitting in the storm too.

I probably haven’t said anything new or
that you don’t already know, but we each need to be able to tell people that
this is the conversation we had in our church had today. It starts with love and respect
for those who tell us they are suffering, it continues with dialogue and with
listening, and it must culminate with our Godly action.

My bishop in Spokane, my sponsoring bishop for seminary, asked all of us in
that diocese to pray the words of St. Francis today, so I'll conclude by saying, let us pray:

Lord, make
us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred, let us sow love; where
there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt,
faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where
there is sadness, joy. Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to
console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is
in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in
dying that we [and the nine in Charleston] are born to eternal life.

Sunday, January 25, 2015

I was incredibly saddened earlier this week to learn that Marcus Borg has passed away. I met Borg, a great theologian,
as an eager high schooler years ago during a weekend of lectures in
Spokane, and then his wife preached at my mother's ordination last year. I
was more or less a fundamentalist in high school, but it was Borg that
put me on a more progressive path after my mom introduced me to his
work. That would have eventually happened anyways, but timing and style
matter, and I will always be grateful to Marcus Borg. Prayers for his
family. Rest in peace, sir, and thank you. You impacted and continue to
impact my soul's relationship with the divine in deep and positive ways.

One of my own favorite things about Borg is the way he challenged
everyone to expand their worldview. He is best known as a scholar of the
historic Jesus, which is an approach that can undermine Christian
fundamentalism. However, he also challenged those who rely ONLY on
history and science. He did not want to detract
from those approaches or their findings, only to point out that alone,
they are insufficient. They may reveal more truths than any other
methods we have, but some truths remain that they cannot reveal. None of
us should limit our worldview, for when we do, we limit how much of our
own existence we can truly experience or comprehend. Religious of all
stripes and secular of a;; stripe, we would all do well to stay
open-minded and hold our truths lightly. We need both science and
spirituality.

Many of my
friends have shared favorite Borg quotes this week; here’s one of mine. It's from one of his chapters in a book he co-wrote with the Rt. Rev. N.T. Wright:

Modernity is
dominated by a secular worldview [that] began to emerge…with the birth
of modern science. … It sees what is real as the world of matter and
energy, space and time; and it sees the universe as a closed system of
cause and effect, operating in accord with natural laws. … It reduces
truth to factuality, either scientifically verifiable or historically
reliable facts. It raises serious doubts about anything that cannot be
accommodated within its framework, including common religious phenomena
such as prayer…

In my thirties, I became aware of how
uncritically, unconsciously, and completely I had accepted the modern
worldview. I saw that most cultures throughout human history have seen
things differently. I realized that there are well-authenticated
experiences that radically transcend what the modern worldview can
accommodate. I became aware that the modern worldview is itself a
relative cultural construction, the product of a particular era in human
intellectual history. Though it is still dominant in Western culture, I
am confident that the time is soon coming when it will seem as archaic
and quaint… The change in my worldview has made it possible for me once
again to take God seriously. I am convinced that the sacred is real. I
see reality as far more mysterious than the modern worldview (or any
worldview) affirms. I do not know the limits of what is possible with
any precision. To be sure, I am reasonably confident that some things
never happen, but I am convinced that the modern draws those limits far
too narrowly.

Tuesday, July 01, 2014

Well that sucked. But like a slow fungus, soccer is growing on me. Not a real fan, just sayin', I guess I can see the appeal.

Soccer was ruined for me at an early age. In first grade, my youth
league coach was a former Greek national team player. And he tended to
remember his glory days better than he remembered the fact that HE WAS
COACHING FIRST GRADERS. Ball, nets, kids, shin guards, fun, aaaand
YOU'RE DONE. But he would go ape**** whenever the refs didn't make the
most minute, technical, esoteric calls - to the point that he stormed
off the field during our second official game and never, ever came back.
But what hit us first graders the hardest that day was that, because it
was a forfeit, we didn't get our free post-game cokes at the concession
stand.

Then a few years later, playing indoor soccer at YMCA
day camp, everyone thought I was good at heading. But no, I was just
good at getting my glasses smashed over and over again. Ouch.

I'm just sayin', that childhood stuff lasts. Ya gotta gimme time with this sport, that's all.

Saturday, April 05, 2014

The relatively new Archbishop of Canterbury, the Most Rev. Justin Welby, said in a recent interview that we mustn't be TOO hasty to
respect the rights and spirituality of our LGBT brothers and sisters,
because when we do, we risk putting African Christians in danger. That's an interesting suggestion I admit I haven't thought about much before - indeed,
sometimes the sacrifices required by our actions are not our own. It's important to consider all perspectives and walks of life, so this is a valid point I
should reflect upon more.

But the ABC may also need to do some more reflecting himself on a different valid point, and that is that
when we DON'T stand up for the rights and spirituality of our LGBT
brothers and sisters, then THEY can be similarly abused - especially in Africa.

I respect what the ABC saw in South Sudan. It's not an experience I
have had. Had he coupled this discussion with condemnation of Uganda's new anti-gay law, I would be somewhat less uncomfortable.

I am proud to be a member of
an Anglican province, the Episcopal Church in the United States, that
doesn't wait for justice or love. Reader, I don't know who you are, but I know that Jesus loves you. That means I do too. Every single one of us already has God's grace, so what else matters? Just the love and justice that flow from that truth.

Wednesday, April 02, 2014

Last night's election results were a small step
forward for D.C. - good, but not great. The crooked mayor is gone, but his
replacement is mediocre at best. There were huge gains in Ward 1, though, and
nothing went in reverse with Ward 6 electing another great
councilmember. A small net positive overall.

I'm very proud of
D.C. for kicking Mayor Gray out. We have no one to blame but ourselves
when we re-elect crooks, and D.C. did the right thing by picking the
anti-Gray. Unfortunately, the wrong candidate emerged as the anti-Gray. I
do not believe Muriel Bowser will be a good mayor. There doesn't seem
to be a lot of depth in her interviews or courage in her career. Though
not corrupt like Gray, she only supported ethics reform after it was
extremely watered down and accepted money from the same shady donors.
She's an improvement, but not a big one.

The best news is in Ward
1, where we saw HUGE change. The ethically-challenged Councilmember Jim
Graham was defeated. I thought this would happen, but by one point, not
17!!! Best of all, the winner, Brianne Nadeau, isn't just an
anti-Graham. She knows the neighborhood, is committed to a progressive
vision, and expands the Council's reformer bloc. I'm very excited by
Ward 1 - that was a huge boost for the city.

The positive status
quo was kept in Ward 6, my neighborhood, with Charles Allen replacing Tommy Wells on the
Council. This is wonderful news and I'm very excited - Charles will make
a GREAT councilmember. But, Tommy was outstanding, so when talking
about reform and progress, this is holding ground, or I'd lead off with
it. Still exciting though.

Unfortunately, the negative status quo was
kept for the at-large seat with Anita Bonds being re-elected, but that
was expected. And while it's disappointing, it's also the status quo, meaning at least it's not a step backwards.

So overall, a small step forward in a big race, a
huge step forward in a small race, and status quo both good and bad elsewhere. But I am
excited by the prospect of an expanding Grosso/McDuffie/Allen/Nadeau reform voting bloc on the Council.